Pinned to Mrs Walter Riddell's Carriage If you rattle along like your Mistress's tongue, Your speed will outrival the dart; But a fly for your load, you'll break down on the road, If your stuff be as rotten's her heart. |
Epitaph for Mr Walter Riddell Sic a reptile was Wat, sic a miscreant slave, That the worms ev'n d....d him when laid in his grave; "In his flesh there's a famine," a starved reptile cries, "And his heart is rank poison!" another replies. |
Charming, eh! And such economy with words!!
2 comments:
Must have been a bit liverish that evening, old Rabbie.
LOL - if all that one may glean about his life is even half true then 'liversishness' was not exactly a rare phenomenon for him ;))
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